A Cruel Farewell

When Vricanto Elisitanuise summoned his family to inform them of the difficult nature of his work and the impossibility of continuing, he did not mean the difficulty of him continuing to work; rather, he meant the difficulty of his family continuing to exist normally while he performed his duties.

In the Party’s private building, specifically in front of the President's office, Vricanto’s wife, Lady Ourekla, stood before the door waiting to enter with anxiety. She was pushing her young daughter’s stroller, while beside her stood her eldest son, Ersrok. He was a young man with black hair and black eyes, emitting an aura of gloom; he appeared sullen and did not want to be there in the first place.

Upon entering the room, a person was sitting quietly behind the desk. He had black hair streaked with silver and wore a white mask with facial expressions representing cunning and deviousness, with a clear smirk. This was the owner of the Prison Awakening and the President of the Party, Irtenfos. Beside him was Hildens, along with a group of guards carrying heavy weapons.

Ourekla searched the room with troubled eyes, but she could not find the husband she knew among them.

"I beg your pardon, is this the right place? I don’t see Vricanto here."

"Yes, it is," Irtenfos replied in his rasping voice.

"Then when will he arrive? And I am sorry for bothering you with questions," she said, anxiety still masking her beautiful smile.

He sighed deeply as he replied: "He is here, in front of you... I am your husband, Vricanto." He said this as he rose from his seat and stood close to them.

"Haha... are you joking, sir? Your appearance and voice are completely different," she said, smiling a fake smile, trying to hide her sudden fear.

He pulled his private phone from his pocket—one completely different from the one he used for work, dedicated to communicating with his wife since they were lovers—and called her directly. Her phone suddenly rang in her hand.

"I am sorry for not being able to show my natural appearance during work... Ourekla, I assure you that I am the Vricanto you know," he spoke in a somewhat cold tone.

"Is it really you? How can this be?!" She was utterly shocked.

"That is something you should not know." He sat on the edge of the desk and picked up his black pistol from the table.

"There is no way you are my father... I know how that fool speaks. Are you trying to trick us?" Ersrok said coldly with a harsh tone.

"I don't care whether you believe it or not; I am him in the end. And I see you haven't changed; you still address me with a harsh style, you ungrateful son."

The relationship between father and son in this family had always been a conflict; Ersrok often avoided coming home because he hated his father’s presence.

"I have invited you today to say only one thing... I am a dangerous criminal."

Shock was visible on Ourekla’s face, while Ersrok smiled as if he had expected it: "I knew it... someone like you had to be a criminal."

"Yes, that’s right!" Vricanto shouted loudly, his voice now vibrant and appearing happy: "I am in the midst of a great struggle for power, and there are many enemies planning to get to me by any means, and one of those ways might be threatening me through my family."

He stepped forward and grabbed his wife’s hand: "Ourekla, you know how much I love you, and you know how emotional I am when it comes to you and the family." Ourekla’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shyness, while Ersrok looked away, showing utter indifference.

He suddenly let go of her hand, stepped back a distance, and said in a cold voice:

 "Therefore... I have decided to end you, so that no one can try to threaten me through my family again."

The soldiers raised their weapons and pointed them at the wife and son. Faces grew pale with fear and shock.

"Vricanto! What are you saying? This is unbelievable... do you really intend to do this?" Suddenly, his wife began to cry, while his eldest son was furious.

"Stop joking like this! Does making my mother cry make you happy? Are you trying to look like some grand character the story revolves around? How childish and disgusting!"

The father raised the pistol and— BAAM!

The father fired at his son, but the bullet did not hit him directly; it only grazed his ear.

 Ersrok fell to the ground on his knees, screaming in intense pain while clutching his bleeding ear. His mother rushed toward him, crying: "Ersrok! Are you... okay?!"

Ersrok raised his head, barely able to speak, looking at his father with a gaze full of a desire for revenge: "You are crazy... completely... you’ve lost your mind."

"Hahaha, you’re right, I’ve lost it indeed! The gods took it from my head to see how it works, to study it and know why it is so great and refined," he said mockingly, laughing.

The mother pulled her son into her arms and drew her daughter's stroller close to him.

 Tears streamed down her cheeks as she wore an expression of anger and heartbreak: "It is impossible for you to be Vricanto! It is impossible for him to hurt his family. I know him perfectly; I know how kind and considerate my dear is. It's impossible for a criminal like you to be him!"

"Now tell me, where is he? Vricanto! Please come out... save your family from this criminal! Please, wherever you are, hurry!"

Irtenfos stood before her, watching her destroy her vocal cords with useless screaming, until he spoke in a very quiet voice:

"I am sorry... no one will hear your cries. Vricanto no longer exists. The only person who will remain, and forever... is Irtenfos, and no one else."

He raised his hand to signal the gunmen.

"STOP IT... YOU BASTARD!" Ersrok stood up,

 shouting at him with all his might. "You are justifying your failure to protect the family as a husband and a father by saying you want to end it without pain? What idiocy! If you are a failure and cannot protect us, then I am the one who will protect this family, and we don't care about your presence or absence!"

Irtenfos lowered his hand. He smiled from behind his mask, saying to himself: 'Yes... this is exactly what I wanted.'

"Then, we have an agreement."

Ersrok was surprised by his quick response and agreement. Irtenfos picked up a luxury black box from the table and threw it to Ersrok, who barely caught it.

"Do you really intend to back down from your criminal act this easily?"

"It doesn't matter. Get out of my sight." He signaled the guards with his hand to take them out. "From now on... none of us shall ever see the other again. This family is no longer mine... and do not ever expect my return."

He turned his face away forever. He didn't even look at his little daughter's face before they left. Silence filled the place until a hand touched his shoulder. It was Hildens.

"Mr. President... are you okay?"

"Yes... I am."

                                                                 *********

In this world, there are labyrinths filled with monsters, and both Sorcerers and Seadles share in killing the creatures that live in these "Dungeons." This is all I can extract from my memory for now.

I was sitting in my office chair, writing a recruitment request for a warrior to help me inspect a low-level Dungeon. I am now ready to begin the mission to obtain the Spy Awakening card.

It is the first step among many to obtain higher-level cards through fusion. It is also important because even if it is a Bronze card, it significantly extends life and youth, granting a person a lot of time. Aiming for cards is always the correct solution—far better than magic.

I set the conditions I needed for the person who would be my servant, offering a large sum of money. I am confident I will get someone interesting. I posted the mission in the designated area and waited to see who has the audacity to take it.

I also bought a weapon—just a pistol with magical bullets that can provide protection in case anything unexpected happens. I carried the large black bag in my hand and threw all its contents onto my bed; bundles of banknotes. I then jumped onto the bed, surrounded by money.

I knew that everyone previously followed me for money and social status; nevertheless, I considered them nothing more than slaves and foolish clowns. I enjoy grinding their dignity into the dirt because there is no being in this existence worthy of my companionship.

There was a girl with short black hair and clear white skin, wearing black glasses. She was short, wearing a white shirt with a black coat, a short skirt, and long black stockings. She stood before a giant building that looked like a major corporation. She was displeased as she entered the place.

She then headed to a desk where a female clerk was sitting. The girl took a card from her small bag and passed it to the clerk. The woman looked at the card and read what was on it clearly:

"Ilaria, Novice Sorceress."

The woman placed the card into a device to read the information better, while asking Ilaria kindly: "Is this your first time here? I haven't seen you before."

Ilaria replied with a smile: "No, I just rarely go out to perform missions."

The device produced three papers. The woman handed them to Ilaria, saying: "These missions are suitable for your level. Choose any work you wish to perform. Good luck."

She sat down, leafing through the papers.

 There was no work offering much money in the first two; she expected that. Unless she raised her level and became stronger, she would never get the amounts she dreamed of and would remain poor and broke.

The third paper was something she couldn't believe her eyes. The client's name was Liaki. The mission: inspecting and exploring a low-level Dungeon. The amount offered was more than what is paid for mid-level missions!

However, in the "Special Conditions" box, it was written: "Must be a beautiful female, and must bring a shovel. There are additional conditions to be agreed upon at the meeting."

The mission was suspicious, and the legendary amount of money made the problem obvious. Ilaria was fearful and tense; she couldn't ignore such a sum. What if the mission was legitimate?

She made her decision in the end, sighing and saying: "Fear won't pay my bills."

She handed the paper to the clerk, who stamped it and passed her a small slip containing the client's contact number, as well as the time and place of the me

eting. Ilaria smiled as she left the building, saying: "It's a large company; it's impossible for them to offer shady work. Now, I'll go get a shovel!"